Wide Eyes
by Kella Toh
Summary: The night is empty, young one, there are no more stars to wish after. Naruto. Rated T for hopelessness.


You have always been a dreamer, little one.

Ever since you were a small thing, clinging to the dingy window of your one-room apartment, you've wished upon those shooting stars. And when the night was blackened by festival lights (or simply blackened by that glowing hole in your little heart), you'd lick your stubby finger and draw some on your foggy looking-glass. You'd wish for family, for friends, and for help in your pursuit of Kage-ship. It kept you company through those long, lonely evenings.

When Team 7 came to be, and a part of you refuses to believe anything came before it, you spent your wishing stars on teammates. You'd wish Kakashi a family, wish him better reading material, and better teaching strategies. You'd wish Sasuke a family too, and wish him to be your brother and friend in ways you were never his. You'd wish Sakura... You'd wish Sakura to love you too, but only because you were a selfish little boy back then who didn't understand sharing. Or, love. At all.

After Sasuke left, you stopped drawing those little stars on the windowpane. The only stars you could see were the ones from the training field, and when you saw them the only thing that kept you from going batshit crazy was that Sasuke was seeing the same ones. You'd wish on those stars horrible things. The taste of Orochimaru's blood, the coppery taste of it running across your whiskery lips. The feel of a kunai between your paws, driving into his lifeless skull back and forth. You've repressed those thoughts and dreams over time, and only now is it starting to come back. (Only, you wish it wouldn't.)

During your trip with Jiraiya, when you had finally started to grow up, you saw stars begin to poke through the treetops again. When you'd huddle around a campfire (or simply huddle together), the little bright lights would illuminate high in the sky, giving you chances to really wish for something good. For Sasuke, who you learned you'd have to defeat first. For Sakura, who you still had selfish feelings for. For Konohagakure, which you missed more than anything in the world.

After your return to Konoha, the stars began to fade again. Your maturing hope had been squashed by news of Akatsuki and Sasuke, by news of Tsunade and Sakura, and by news of Konohagakure in general. You'd been away for a long time, and the village had changed around your absence. People had changed around your absence. Grown around the hole that was the memory of Uzumaki Naruto. Still, you wished on.

The invasion of Konoha by Pein unearthed feelings you weren't sure were supposed to be there. Nights of shining lights were replaced by nights of burning rubble, and digging more than people and objects out of the debris. Hinata had confessed to you, which secretly you found all the more selfish than yourself (which was a naked lie, nothing could be more selfish than yourself). Sasuke was making his objectives very clear, and, in a way, so were you. There were a few lingering stars to continue your facade of happiness and joy.

Between then and the war, you felt as though the night had disappeared. The night was blackened by hatred and sorrow, the raindrops on your windowpanes bringing sadness instead of creativity. Your once-strong feelings for Sakura had diminished to a bearable disdain, patterned by the dirty, windswept cotton-candy hair and the pleading, soulless eyes. The sky is dark and the sea is darker. Sometimes you wish you could fly.

The war is filled with supernovas. When a star implodes and explodes and leaves a bunch of bullshit lying around for everyone else to clean up. There's debris. Broken wood, dulled and bloodied kunai, even old chopsticks. Bodies. So many bodies. Even the old die young. And it's all thanks to you, my dear boy.

When you look up through the folds of the medical tent into the truly black sky, you can't help but wonder if there's going to be any stars to wish after if you get out. You certainly hope so.


End file.
